Dreaming Wide Awake
by PrincessDesire
Summary: Dom is an unhappy cubicle jockey. He feels hopeless and stuck until he begins to have dreams about being a general in a space battle. Ben is an insomniac plagued by nightmares of a world where he is a homicidal warlord. Then, his nighttime alter ego meets General Hux and suddenly the curse of his dreams doesn't seem so bad.
1. Chapter 1

The pointed toe caps of his brogues send out little clippy announcements of each of his steps. With the inclusion of the tapping raindrops around, the world has a distinctly staccato feel to it. Dom has his umbrella, standard business issue black, protecting his suit from the rain. It's rather like he's the boy in the bubble really, only the bubble only protects his top half and there are already splashes to his socks that will make the tube ride home more miserable. He sighs at it, attempting to convey to the rain that he will simply not stand for its presence today. Just like the twenty or so days preceding this one, the rain pays no heed.

As expected, the cold clammy dampness trickles into his socks. It's also there in his left wrist cuff, because he'd clumsily closed his umbrella before finding a seat on the train. As it rolls along, he watches his fellow passengers, idly though, without much enthusiasm for the task. They look as bored and unhappy as himself. The odor of fish wafts through the compartment and it mixes unpleasantly with the moldy subterranean smell.

He tries not to reflect on the feelings about the meeting with his boss; better to wait until he's inside his own flat where he's free to cry, not that he will, or to break something, not that he will. He definitely does not want to think, while surrounded by apathetic strangers, about the judgment in his boss's voice nor the implications of hearing that particular phrase uttered by someone with whom he isn't sleeping. Nope, instead he wills himself to think of the things that need done around the flat. It's the 15th of the month, so it's loo cleaning day. He'll also need to take down the recycling, the paper and plastic canisters if not the glass. Dom rarely drinks at home and the little glass container is usually empty. He's tempted to get a jump on his weekend chores, but then that would just screw up the schedule. Perhaps there are some items on his annual list that could be completed, but he has that in writing and not on his phone, so he isn't quite sure off the top of his head what those are.

The meeting thoughts still needle in. Luckily, the trip home isn't long, and then he has his chores to keep him distracted. He turns up music, dons his rubber gloves, and sets to work getting rid of as much bacteria as he can (99.9% per the bottle) while humming along. Millicent wraps around his ankles as he works, either trying to trip him so that she can eat him, or just curious, as though he never cleans and she has no concept of what this new activity means. He won't be able to pet her until his work is done, something that always miffs her and the resentment builds as things become shinier. The toilet itself gets weekly attention, and the shower, scrubbing the tiles and the glass doors, is every two weeks. It never accumulates mold, only a small smattering of Millicent's fur (if she goes in there, it's while he's asleep because he's never witnessed her investigating his various soaps) and the odd red hair (which he believes but desperately hopes he's imagining seeing more often now that he's in his mid-30s).

He removes all the mirror smudges to Imagine Dragons, puts away the clean dishes to Queen, sorts in chronological order a pile of magazines that Millicent peskily knocked off a shelf to Sir Sly, and returns to Poets of the Fall after taking out the recycling. He partially ruins his work with a quick shower, but the hot water feels like it burns off bacteria that the gloves couldn't prevent touching his skin. Millicent watches from the downturned lid of the toilet, judging the sanity of a creature that would willingly submit itself to a bath. He chitters to her, unable to touch her fur with the water still clinging to him, and she arches up her spine eager to be petted, disgruntled and impatient while he dresses in flannel pants and a white crew neck t-shirt. He's warm enough from the shower that he doesn't immediately put over his house robe.

Dom's couch, nostrils filled with tea steam, lap full of entitled purring cat. That's where he is when the conversation with Reilly resurfaces. "You're a control freak." The first time that his ex-boyfriend Abbas had called him that, Dom had felt that it was hyperbolic, just exaggerated emotions during a heated argument. With the accusation's second appearance, however, it was no longer ignorable as a flip insult; it became a possible character flaw, potentially requiring deep personal insight, long sessions with a therapist, or an all-out fingers-in-his-ears denial that anything could be wrong with him. Hearing it from his boss eleven long months after Abbas had moved out, Tesco boxes littering every room of the apartment for nearly three weeks before that, Dom had felt the deep frown set into his lips and forehead and the deep dread of how Reilly's choice of words were going to encircle his thoughts set into his belly.

"It's just a joke, Dom!" Reilly had said, obviously observing the look of dismay on his face. Then, "Mostly."

The office could be any in London, any in the world for that matter. Computers and cubicles, pens and paper shredders. Even though Reilly is his direct superior, he doesn't have a real office with walls, not even a spot by one of the rare and coveted windows. As a matter of fact, Dom's boss is a rung nearly as low as himself on the corporate ladder of First Order Commercial Realty.

"I mean, it's okay to have ambition. But, look, you just got here seven months ago. Give it time. You still have a lot to learn. Give it a couple of years, then we can see about putting you in charge of your own team. Hell, maybe you'll even take over my position by then.

The horror that Dom felt in that moment was sublime. It was a two-fold horror. A little voice in his head saying, "Abbas was right - you are a control freak" and then the louder jovial voice of Reilly announcing that in years he might someday win the lottery of slightly below middle management.

He'd never understood how anyone could feel suicidal until that moment. That isn't even hyperbole. He could literally see his entire life before him, a long subway train headed down one long track, no deviations, and, more importantly, not even being his own conductor even though the train had "my life" splattered across the side in yellow spray paint. He'd never felt the meaningless of life so acutely until then. It might not even be life in general, but his in particular, because others around him seemed to have so much more autonomy in what they chose to do.

Reilly had been aware of the impact of his words, though he might not have understood why they'd hit so hard or how deeply the wound went. He'd made jokes, tried to lessen the blow, but soon enough, he'd left Dom to his own thoughts, to his probably ashen dejected face. All Dom had wanted when submitting his formal proposal was a small team, maybe three or four people underneath him. That's all, he knew, that he would need to show them how efficiently the company could be run with his ideas, with his abilities, leading the way. He certainly hadn't anticipated being told that he needed to devote _years_ to his current position to even consider doing so. Even less had he expected to be taunted for his ambition.

There's an oft quoted belief that animals can sense their owners' moods. Millicent, ungraciously licking her anus on his lap could therefore be seen as a clear demonstration of where his life sits right now. Or, she could just be oblivious and enjoying the taste of whatever her own ass tastes like. Either way, he bumps her off. It's time to head to the pub. Alcohol certainly won't make him feel better, but perhaps the camaraderie of other working stiffs will give his mind something to focus on outside of his own self-pity.

"Your owner is a control freak," Dom announces to Millicent upon arriving home. She creates meow circles around his feet, returning his announcement with her own - that she can see the bottom of her food dish and therefore the surrounding circle of food is no longer valid. "And, he's battered."

He hangs his sodden coat on the three pronged rack next to his door. He'd only walked two blocks yet it looks as though he's been for a swim while wearing the thing. He flutters his lips at it, not quite a raspberry. "Well, you hang there then." He smiles down at the cat. "Both of us need to dry out a bit, eh?"

He talks to himself as he rifles through the cupboards for a wet can of food. "Eat well tonight for we may die tomorrow!" he says, plucking the tin of salmon flavored glop from behind a sack of jasmine rice.

He pulls the ring top then stares in surprise at his left hand, the hand that was holding the can far above the rim, the hand that now is positively squirting blood. "Well shit," he says before the world begins to spin. He lands with one knee on the laminate floor. Millicent, still desperate for food, stands with her paws atop his quads, greedy nose jabbing at the can he's still holding. "Shit." he says again, vision receding and ears ringing. "I'm going to faint," he says, lying down full length on his kitchen floor.

He doesn't faint. Lying down prevents full-on loss of consciousness, but it takes several minutes of bleeding out onto the floor before his sight and hearing fully return. The ringing slowly transitions into the sound of cat jaw-smacking and the overhead light looks less like one of those electricity balls with streaks of light and dark zagging out from its center. He looks at his blood-drenched hand. It makes him feel woozy but oddly curious.

Dom begins to chuckle. It's a delirious ale-induced laughter at the absurdity of life. He considers, briefly, that if he had another can of cat food handy, he might be able to aim for his right wrist next time. The thought never really sinks all the way in, because even batting around the idea of suicide seems dangerous, like its inviting depression to dig its way further down inside him, to the core of who he is.

When he sits up, it's tentative, feeling it out. His head is pounding, but all of his senses remain intact. He grips tightly onto the counter as he stands, rather like learning how to ice skate when he'd been a child. He fares better on the tile than he had at the rink and he has none of his peers to judge him here, only Millicent who, after finishing off her meal has shuffled off somewhere else, probably to return to arsehole cleaning.

It would probably be smart to stave off the bleeding before cleaning it, but he's right there in the kitchen and antibacterial soap always seems like a good idea. When he finishes getting imagined cat food particles out of the gash, he wraps the whole hand up mummy-style with paper towels.

The perfect end to a perfect day, he thinks bitterly, drunkenly, as he walks into his bedroom only to find that Millicent has coughed up a hairball on the duvet. He hurls the dirty cover onto the floor with his uninjured hand. His dramatic dive onto the bed has a touch of petulant adolescent to it, but at the moment, he's far from caring. He just wants to sleep off this day. Honestly, he just wants to sleep off his life. Would he really be missing anything if he just pulled a Rip Van Winkle, slept through the rest of the tube track on which his life train is going? It's not like there will be any points of interest, no other passengers, no scenic views out the window. He curls underneath the thin sheet, fully clothed (minus his shoes), and fully ready to wink out of existence for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

General Hux's eyes are red and irritated. He wipes at the tears that spill out, a response to the too bright light. The suns on this planet are too large. He feels like he's under interrogation lights just standing here. There's also the issue of his skin; it will burn a Tandgor gem red which will fade into a starfield of freckles. He doesn't plan to be planetside long; Hux has always felt more comfortable above planet where he can keep an eye on the comings and goings of the galaxy from a better vantage point, but there are always going to be the occasions where his physical presence is necessitated. Hux tells his skin to be patient - the ground transport will be along any minute to take them into the facility.

He's accompanied by some troopers (only a fool would travel without protection when their life's work is so important) and two First Order lieutenants. He likes to oversee everything personally which, considering the expanse of his tasks, explains well the perpetual dark circles beneath his eyes and his constant intake of coffee.

The transport arrives and without a word, the small group climbs in, the troopers' boots loud upon the metal. The facility is huge by necessity and it has a hive-like layout, clusters of soldiers in different stages of development, but each separated by long intermingling-discouraging corridors, some of which are externally accessed only. It is imperative that the troops never be alone. They must always see themselves as part of their unit, and then, part of the First Order. The self is not to factor into their transport is slender but long and it is open air so it provides no defense against the UVB rays injecting themselves into his skin. When the transport slides into the building, Hux's eyes take on the duty of adjusting to the difference in brightness while he goes over in his mind where they have entered. Memorizing the schematic of a location this size is no small feat, but it was completely imperative and so he did. There are three landing bays and their ship brought them to the central-most one, Desert Bay. From there, they travel through the main receiving area which is used primarily for cargo, but also for troops returning from deployment, towards the Orange Command Hub.

One of the many things that Armitage's father Brendol had firmly believed was planning for all contingencies. It is from his design that this building was constructed. Those participating in the program, overseers, tacticians, instructors, programmers, maintenance crews, all of them are only permitted to congregate in a firmly maintained maximum number. There are six different sleeping areas for administration, all located towards the outer perimeters of the complex. Should the training completely fail, which is as close to impossible as anything, the trainees would not be able to effectively revolt against the programmers. To further decrease the chances of this occurrence, trainees are discouraged primarily through physical distance and social correction not to form friendships/alliances with members outside their group. Competition being what it is, the trainees themselves have initiated rivalries, some becoming violent in rare cases.

Hux rotates which hub that he uses. It serves the dual purpose of his father's intention plus he likes how it keeps the administration on their toes, never quite knowing what to expect. He may not, even with his six-foot stature, inherently display an imposing figure but he has honed his image down dagger sharp. He takes pleasure in knowing that they will have to ask around as to where they're expected to go and then scramble across the large complex to meet him there. He's actually requiring the maximum allowed staff in the one meeting room. At present, the whole complex hosts 784 on-site staff. A small number compared to the 160,000 soldiers that are undergoing their training. It's impressive that Brendol's methods are so effective that such a small group can effectively control the personalities of so many. Hux has no difficulty admitting to himself that the same methods were used to a degree on him, since he's quite pleased with the outcome. He's glad that he's not one of the civilians that he sees unable to focus, living for nothing, afraid of effort and control.

The room, comprised of 60 staff, most programmers, stands at attention upon the arrival of Hux's retinue. The meeting itself is dull, as a lot of the finer details of his position tend to be. The only reason that he finds them interesting at all, is that he's capable of looking at both the minute and the grand plans. He can identify how one order to a lackey can make or break an empire, can be a pivotal cog in the universal machine.

First, they walk him through successes and failures resulting from modifications enacted following his last visit. He comments on these, offering alternatives in the cases of the failures, and noting, mentally and by way of recording robot, the successes to be used again in the future. The program has a very low failure rate, so it is unsurprising that at this visit they bring to him no news of any resistant trainees. There have been, in the past, but even for those, there is a protocol. If they're fully fledged troopers, there is a "re-education program," meant to reinforce what they've already learned. If they're still trainees, and if there is a failure in this area, it's usually during adolescence when hormones mislead them into thinking they are individuals with rights and unique perspectives and prospects, then they might be scrubbed from the program entirely. Better to toss out one bad Jogan fruit than to allow it to spoil all the others. The programmers don't make a big show of the failure's execution, so as to not increase any us versus them mentality. It's a quick blast to the head and then disposal. Again, this is something that happens rarely; most trainees can be salvaged even during adolescence with chemicals, though the program places these as an undesirable method. Behavioural changes are always preferable to just throwing drugs at the problem. They're out to create soldiers not addicts.

After this, the group discusses things, either policy changes or tangible items, that they need. The demand for blasters and blaster energy is always high, obviously, and the New Order can come by them, though not as readily as its predecessor, The Empire, easily. Food rations always remain the same, though occasionally, the programmers may ask that certain planets be contacted to expand on options for themselves. This time, they request that the Melahna system be opened up for potential food trade. Hux says that he'll look into it.

It's this type of minutiae that he must deal with before finally getting the chance to look around the facility. It's not an attractive building, not that Hux is looking for that element. There is visible tubing hanging from the ceiling and the walls do not always start at 90 degree angles, giving the impression that the world is slightly wrong, a touch askew. As with his last visit, everything seems to be in order. There are no crates sitting unminded in the cargo bays. No swaths of floor appear dirty, even in the dorms of the younger trainees. He stands in the back of one of the classrooms and observes a tactical maneuvers class. The children are disciplined enough to keep their attention focused on their programmer instead of the stranger in the back. He watches them tap notes onto their pads. Later, the trooper that he stops randomly in the hallway reacts to his questions in exactly the same way as his last spontaneous interviewee. It certainly appears that everything is how it should be here.

After confirming that all the items on his checklist are done, Hux leads his team back to the Desert launch bay, back to the great darkness that hides behind this planet's too bright suns. He luxuriates in the pride that comes from knowing that he completed all his tasks within only a four minute margin of what he'd estimated.


	3. Chapter 3

It's not possible to jump out of a dream, but Ben is trying. His arms and legs whirl around, restrained by his bedding. He is a scared blanket octopus thrashing around. His breath comes to him only with effort, making a loud suck sound as air hits his lungs for the first time since waking. Soon, the room is filled with the sound of his panting. Everything feels hot and terrifying and too small. "Goddammit!" he yells as he finally gets to his feet, the sheet still gripping one ankle possessively. He kicks it off angrily. He glares at the mess of bedding then at the clock. The red 2:28 glares back.

He'd gotten, what two hours of sleep? It felt like he'd been stuck in that nightmare for an eternity. He'd been hurting that man, choking the life out of him with just his will, and he'd liked it. What kind of fucked up person has dreams like that? He'd heard of nightmares about falling. What he wouldn't give for a falling dream. No, he has to have blood and death, chaos and violence. And why do they always seem to happen in space? He doesn't watch sci-fi movies, has only seen the first two series of Star Trek! He kicks the pile of mashed up sheet and blanket with one socked foot. His other sock seems to have been lost to the great night battle.

Snoke, the oversized twisted demon who commands his dream self, was telling him that he was being sent to a new place, a ship where he was to oversee the construction of the greatest weapon ever built. Ben, as the space warlord Kylo Ren, had bowed his head obediently to his master, who looked like Hugh Hefner if he was in the Thriller music video, but then lost his goddamn mind when the transmission had cut. Ben doesn't even know why Kylo was angry, but by extension, he'd been as well. He'd choked someone, it was getting harder to remember but he thinks maybe it was one of the weird brainwashed soldiers that surround him because of his involvement in the First Order. Because Kylo can use the force, a sort of mishmash of telepathy and telekinesis and psychic abilities all rolled into one, he could choke the man with his mind and then feel the physical sensation from both sides. It was almost like choking himself, because he was getting that feedback, hearing the brain crying out for air, even as he was also feeling the surge of triumph and power to be able to end someone's life without consequence, without remorse.

Ben decides to go for a walk.

It's a stupid idea, because there's feet of fucking snow on the ground, but he bundles up, big snow boots and padded water-resistant orange coat. He completes the utilitarian but silly ensemble with his red and white Red Sox beanie.

The whiteness of the snow creates a sort of ground glow so that he isn't just wandering around in pitch blackness, which would creep him the hell out with the current place his mind is at. Instead, the serene quiet of winter creates an artificial atmosphere of vast peace. If the Buddha was a landscape, he'd be a wintry field in New England.

He mars the smooth terrain with his crunching steps and ruins the peaceful atmosphere by looking at his cellphone. Even with the brightness turned down, it cheapens the road, like Walmart lighting. Facebook: political commentary spoken in only absolutes (and if you disagree with me, you're a fucking idiot), pet pictures (the modern equivalent of forcing people to look at how cute your kids are), pictures of teenagers doing shit that Ben hasn't even done in his 30s (how kickass can black belts be if a thirteen year old has one?), and vague emotional cries for help ("I guess I'm doomed to be alone forever"). Still, the constantly updating stream is addictive, studies have proven that, always encouraging its users to long for perpetual affirmation. So, even though he puts his phone away after becoming annoyed with the lack of content, it's back out again only minutes later.

Every night, well, most nights, Ben sits down for 30 minutes of meditation, usually following a brief yoga routine. He's never had a shrink that didn't recommend meditation, though they think that it should ease his mind enough to maybe stop the nightmares. They're wrong, of course, but meditation is so pivotal to his well-being, so interlaced with his sense of self, that he can't imagine his life without those moments, even if they have never been able to stop Kylo Ren or Snoke or Han Solo from ruling the unconscious near-third of his life.

Technically, it's not the nightmares that keep him in therapy, but the "daddy issues." Everyone else seems to have them too, but his subconscious can't deal with it like others do. He doesn't have dreams that a wild bear that's actually his dad rips into his heart with long adamantium claws or anything. No, instead he dreams about killing people in space. How does that relate to his daddy issues? Who the fuck knows? Certainly not the therapists his insurance company throws wads of cash to.

Ben's heard the phrase "correlation, not causation," and is by this point pretty damn sure that it applies. It would be easier if the daddy issues caused his nightmares. Then, working through his issues would fix the dreams. He's pretty much come out the other side, he feels, with how he functions after his fucked up childhood. He's examined the damages with a psychological magnifying glass, released the demon of taboo and secrecy by sharing it with others, and pretty much forgiven his parents, even if the absolution only goes one way. Does what he went through still mess with his interpersonal dynamics? Yeah, of course. Does he still indulge in wishful thinking, wasting precious energy to thinking about what could have been? A little, but it's rare, usually around the holidays when he sees happy families epitomize what he didn't have. But he's nowhere near as bad as he used to be. He's not even as bad as he was only a few years ago when he was still wielding humor like a weapon, joking about his abuse, preemptively wounding himself so that no one else could. He met tons of people with shitty upbringings of their own, so they'd throw their own ill-timed and inappropriate humor into the works. Just two damaged human beings trying to be whole.

The shrinks have helped. If they didn't, he wouldn't keep seeing them. They ask him if he wants to hurt people in real life, like he does in his dreams. Honestly, sometimes he does, but Ben thinks most people do. Someone cuts you off in traffic, you think about smashing into the back of their car, that sort of thing. He's never, like, covered his house in plastic and then invited someone over for stabby time or anything. It's only when he's asleep that he gets bloody thoughts. Most of the time he's hurting others - slashing into someone with a sword (a space laser sword of course - because he's a fucking nerd even in his dreams), choking someone, commanding a ship to destroy other ships, all kinds of things. Other times, he's getting hurt. He has a recurring group of nightmares about his training with Snoke, the physical and mental abuses that he endured to become a master of the force. There's also when his attacks on others don't go unpunished, when he's hit hard by a fist or shot with a laser. Two of his shrinks were way more interested in the dreams where he gets hurt, probably seeing it as a self-harm style cry for help or something. And, he can't even say to them that he doesn't get some kind of enjoyment out of the feeling, at least while he's in the dream. There was one where he'd had broken ribs and the pain was, rather than debilitating, empowering. He'd deliberately pressed on it, pounded on it with his fist, and felt a surge of power fueled by hate and pain, betrayal and rage. The details were fuzzy, like dreams tended to be, but he remembered acutely how good it had felt, how he'd fed off the agony and felt almost reborn from it.

His foot destroys a hidden branch, triggering a particularly loud snap. It resounds across the snow. The suburbs, where he rents the top floor of a house, are quiet tonight as always. It's the kind of street that perpetually contains children on bicycles, as though they come with the properties. The neighbors get to mowing their lawns when they feel like it which ends up somewhere between meticulous golf course and hedge maze. They're good people, quick to strike up conversation with him, but not overly nosy about why a man his age doesn't have a wife. Perhaps that's another reason why the rage only comes at night. His daytime hours are pretty damn good. He likes his job delivering insulated glass units to commercial distributors; it allows him a lot of time to listen to music or audiobooks. After he gets off, he heads to the gym then crashed out with TV or stays up late painting. On the weekends, he tends to hang out with a friend or two, maybe take in a game or eat fried food, and head to the bar in the evening to scrounge up a bedmate.

He wants to try to sleep again tonight, just because it's been so many too short nights in a row, and he might try, but the imagery of tonight's dreams haunts him even out here where the world seems so beautiful. He wishes he could take some of this and bring it into his brain, maybe pretty up that fucked up violent space world from which he can't seem to escape.

"Hey Dumbo!" calls Gwen, the CEO of Phasma Windows. She comes out of the warehouse rolling a rack behind her. Her short bobbed blonde hair is pulled into a chaotic ponytail. Her work uniform consists of a white short sleeved shirt under pea-green coveralls. The coveralls are always pristine, to the point where Ben wonders why she doesn't just wear street clothes. Considering that Ben has never seen her outside of this environment, those could actually be her regular clothes.

"Hey Lesbo," he shouts back to her as he jumps down from the truck. The snow has been shoveled from the asphalt so he doesn't fall on his ass, which is nice.

She eyes his truck. "Goddamn, am I your only customer this winter?"

The haul is pretty sparse. In the summer, when everyone is doing construction work, he has trouble finding room for everything. But, jobs dry up when the snow falls. Luckily Ben doesn't have to worry too much about that since he doesn't run the company. They're small enough that any orders that they do get, Ben will be the one that delivers them. "You're the mouthiest."

She smiles at him, face cuter than it should be when she does. They set to work transferring the units onto the rack. There's only three for her today, but he doesn't rib her back about the lack of business since that actually is hurting her finances.

"Have you thought about my offer of Thanksgiving dinner?" she asks.

"Didn't I say no?" He had been perfectly clear about being busy this Thanksgiving, having already been asked by two sets of friends to dinner, but it's nice that she's pushing the issue; it makes him feel wanted. Not that she would ever invite him if she didn't actually want him there, but the persistence is flattering.

She pushes one of the ponytail's stray strands behind an ear. It'll drop back down in less than a minute. It doesn't appear that she gives much thought to her appearance. He's never seen her wearing makeup. She fits in with that "bull dyke" stereotype. Not that being girly was really ever an option since she's over six feet tall. "You did. But, did you change your mind?"

"Pretty eager to have me over, huh?" he asks. Then, flirtatiously, he leans in a bit towards her and says, voice low, "I didn't think I was your type, Gwen."

She laughs and punches his shoulder, probably a little harder than necessary, but that's kind of her style. "If I did swing that way, you think you'd be the first one on my list?"

He rubs his arm dramatically. "Well, I'd like to think top three, at least."

One of her employees comes out needing her help with something. She assures the other woman that she's coming right in with the delivery. Then, with an almost shy tilt of her head, she says, "Seriously though, you should come to dinner. My fiestas are epic. I'll have a bird the size of a Buick and all the shots you can handle."

"Thanks," he says, and he means it. "I'll let you know if my current plans change."

It could be more awkward, since she's a client, but it's been easy between them over the couple of years that he's been dropping off units for her. There's a lot of personality there. She can be, misogynist though it is to think, a ball-buster. He's seen her interacting with her employees in frank and demanding ways. Not everyone can handle that kind of forthcoming honesty, complete lack of sugar-coating, from a boss. She'd warmed to Ben immediately. who

likes to think that he takes people as they are, won't even judge a rice paper-white woman who throws out the word fiesta to describe a Thanksgiving dinner party.

"See ya!" she says, not even bothering to look back over her shoulder at him as she walks the cart back into her factory. It's the second most southern stop that he's got and if she didn't order with as much regularity as she does, Empire Glass probably wouldn't go so far out as the last one on his South run. Gwen's probably his favorite client, definitely the best he'll meet up with today, but there are still more on his route that he might shoot the shit with a little bit as well.

Now if only he'd gotten some fucking sleep, his day would be just about perfect.


	4. Chapter 4

Dom is more motivated the week following his space dream than he's felt in a long time. He handles client cases, does paperwork that he's been putting off, and schedules his next dental appointment. It's not that he usually views himself as incompetent, far from it, but lately, he feels as though he could single-handedly spin the Earth. That dream, the one that had been the impetus for his burst of inspiration, hasn't faded with time like dreams normally do. This is probably because it's about all he can think about and going over the same images has solidified them. He can still hear the clink of his boots on the metal grating of the facility's walkways, feel the cold unpliant texture of his black gloves, and breathe in the taste of recirculated air kept in storage tanks. All these sensations hover around behind the thoughts of his foremind as it does things like making phone calls and updating account information. By the end of the week, he may no longer feel like General Armitage Hux, high ranking official in a space government, but he's not feeling like pathetic desk jockey Dom MacDougal either.

He spends the weekend watching sci-fi movies with Millicent. He compares the ship size to his own, well, his dream self's own. Millicent doesn't much care for cinema, she likes his body heat and the ugly four-toned fleece blanket that he keeps on his lap. It provides a layer of protection when she decides his legs needs to be massaged with her claws. His body is already hard at work healing his hand and he doesn't want to add more perforations to its agenda. It itches like crazy, the reddish scab, and he worries that lingering bacteria from the cat food might be festering beneath the surface. At least he's up on his tetanus vaccination, had checked the medical paperwork in his home filing cabinet just to be sure, so he needn't worry about that particular disease. At work, he'd had many coworkers ask about the bandage. Rather than offer up that he'd been brought to near-fainting by a row with a cat food tin, he stretched the truth and told them that he mishandled some scrap metal. If they found any misalignment between his physical appearance and the manliness of the accident as he'd described it, they don't mention it.

On Sunday night while Millicent sleeps peacefully curled in a ball on the curve of his back, his head swirls with visions of spaceships and aliens from his movie marathon, and he returns again to Hux's universe.

One of Snoke's knights is to be joining the crew and Hux is, as can be expected, pissed beyond reason. Despite performing all the duties of an officer with the title, Snoke still hasn't officially made him Grand Marshall. Cruelly, Snoke dangles it over him, like one would a kitten with string and Hux can never resist trying for it again and again. Now comes this new slap in the face: he's to share what power he's come by with this Kylo Ren. "He has an important role to play in the First Order," Snoke had said, as though Ren's the only person in the galaxy that could be applied to. Even some of the damn stormtroopers could be said to play a role and they are no more pivotal than, though just as prevalent as, womp rats!

He is predisposed, then, to hating this new intruder on _his_ Finalizer. He glares angrily at the bay doors as they open to permit Kylo Ren's shuttle which is a one-man cruiser. At least This Kylo Ren is not so arrogant as to expect others to shuttle him around. Hux approves. This approval vanishes instantly when out of the tiny ship, rises a black robed and helmeted figure. One of Hux's eyebrows rises judgmentally. Snoke's apprentice is dressed up like Darth Vader? Hux actually looks around, as though he expects his men to be laughing instead of standing alertly at attention. No, this can't be Snoke's pupil, can it?

After straightening up, the sad parody of Vader tilts his helmet first to one side and then the other leading Hux to wonder how long he's been at the controls, cramped inside the dinky pod bay. Still, the man's movements are far from clunky when he steps forward towards Hux. Regardless of any leg tingling or back cramps, he glides lithely, a duelist's gait. Interesting.

"Kylo Ren," Hux says, not making it into a question out of deference to the austerity of the situation though he still thinks the costume is a bizarre choice for a knight.

A deep, mechanically-modified voice resonates from the helmet's mouthpiece. "General Hux," the mask says back.

"Welcome aboard the Finalizer. Master Snoke seems optimistically enthusiastic about your potential assistance to our cause." Hux allows his bitterness to cut the syllables in the word "optimistically," lets each one hammer home how unwelcome this Mr. Ren really is.

"As I understand it, he views my presence as a necessity. I'm sure you wouldn't question the Supreme Chancellor's judgment."

The challenge hangs in the air as Hux stares at where this costumed clown's eyes must be. Finally, he replies, "You've had a long flight? Would you prefer to rest first or would you like to be debriefed right away?"

"Whichever you would find more convenient, General." Somehow, even with the voice modification, Ren sounds mocking. There's something about the uptilt to his words, as though he's patronizing him.

"I'm sure we'll find more of a use for you when your rested. Hawkins here can show you to your quarters."

The mask nods slightly at the officer who steps forward. "Very well," he says. Hawkins pivots but walks slowly, giving Kylo Ren a chance to add anything more to the conversation before they depart for the officers' quarters. It appears though that both men are finished with whatever they were doing, because Ren follows the officer and Hux pulls out a tablet, ready to move on to less annoying tasks that must be done.

Their first meeting is _not_ an exceptional one. Every interaction they have in the two weeks following Ren's arrival proves itself just as infuriating. Ren doesn't ever take off his stupid dress-up costume and, rather than that making him a laughingstock, the men actually seem to be afraid of him, as though he is some sort of black-clad boogeyman. Hux hears their ghost stories about the sith: that even just the apprentices are powerful enough to kill a person from a galaxy's distance away, that they must shed the blood of an innocent before beginning training, and other nonsense. He also hears reverential gossip about Ren himself: that he's the ghost of Darth Vader himself, that beneath his mask is something so hideous that most men would go mad to view it, and the most troubling bit, that he's come to the Finalizer to take control of the entire First Order, to rule over Hux and, someday, overthrow Snoke.

It's not surprising that the troopers, whose lives are spent solely in the company of their peers, only venturing into the other reaches of space in order to subdue or kill, would be gullible and prone to this sort of childish nonsense. In a way, they still are children, having never reached the emotional maturity that comes with independence. He doesn't blame the troopers. He blames Kylo Ren.

He blames Kylo Ren for arguing about how many spies to send to Naboo, as if he has any concept of tactics of espionage! He blames Kylo Ren for force-choking Lambert until he loses consciousness, even if no permanent damage is done. He especially blames Kylo Ren for his damned continual presence. Does the man never sleep? If his helmet was larger, Hux would suspect him of being a Bith or a Gand, but his overall shape appears human. Perhaps there is some truth to the rumor that force users do not sleep, but instead meditate for brief periods? Probably not, but yet there Ren is everytime he turns around. When he begins and ends his shift, Ren is there, silently watching others move around him as though time itself doesn't affect him.

Hux snaps one day, unable to bear it any longer. "Is there not something you should be doing?" he demands of the unspeaking ghoul haunting his command deck.

"When Snoke commands me."

"And in the meantime, you're meant to just stand there taking up valuable space and oxygen?" Hux doesn't often let himself lash out, even in this verbal manner. There are much more effective ways to cut a man down. Hux doesn't want to be effective; he wants to be petulant and he seems to be succeeding at it.

Kylo Ren stands motionless, as usual, and Hux comes to believe that the immobility is in itself an answer, but then Ren asks, "Would you prefer me to stand somewhere else?"

It's enough to drive a lesser person mad.


	5. Chapter 5

From the Ganymede's cockpit, Kylo can confirm visually what his sensors have already told him, that he's closing in on Takodana. It's his first time off The Finalizer in over a month and he's grateful for the opportunity to do anything useful. He's to rendezvous with N'ktara Ren at a defunct Pakoukou shrine. It's mostly an information exchange, but he'll also serve in a small capacity as a secondary fighter should N'ktara require one. He's hoping it will come to battle, regardless that such circumstances would render the assignment a waste of time. Kylo just has so much energy bottled up from standing around watching the soldiers go through their daily routines aboard the large floating battleship.

Life aboard the Finalizer has been dull, but far from unpleasant. His quarters are small and have a ruthless efficiency-style of comfort to them. When he'd fled from the Jedi Temple during the night of his rebirth, he'd taken a bag with him of only the most basic of things, save for one item of misplaced sentimental value. Since then, Kylo hasn't felt very inclined to saddle himself with more things that he might need to abandon in the future. But even this minimalist approach to objects has the three compartments in his quarters packed tightly. The appreciation that he has for the space is that it is his own, shared by neither apprentices nor tenuous allies. It's hard enough to share a control deck with General Hux, who radiates a consistent low-level hatred at all times when Kylo is around, which given the circumstances of their deployment, must be exhausting.

He likes watching Hux though, trying to figure out what makes the general tick, and what makes him stand out so much from the other worker bees that flit through the hive of the ship. For starters, he's less stoic than Kylo thinks of military personnel. Every emotion that Hux ever has broadcasts itself, illuminated like the 500-foot casino advertisements on Spira. Even if he doesn't take action to the feelings, they're right there for anyone, not just a force user, to read. His neck, ears, and cheeks turn red at the least provocation. When angry, Hux's lips draw themselves so tight together that Kylo wonders if they'll vanish entirely, crushed beneath their own weight. When smugly satisfied with himself, his nose goes higher, like a bird's beak proudly full of a worm. And these reactions can come from the most mundane of interactions. Even signing a work order can be a drama holovid's worth of physical responses.

Despite this seeming flaw though, Hux runs a tight ship. He's good at what he does. His men hate him, of course, as can be said of any good commander, but he isn't seeking their approval anyway. His approval comes strictly from inside. Kylo's seen happy pride cross his face as he meets or exceeds a personal goal. He doesn't need soldiers to praise him. Kylo envies him that fiercely. Even now that he's the Master of the Knights of Ren, he still feels desperate for a word of respect, of adulation, from Snoke. He tries so hard not for his own sake, like Hux does, but for others.

Takodan's environment is lush; trees, plants, and animals burst from every inch of its surface, but the Ganymede doesn't require much room to land, and he doesn't even need to seek out a port. He parks by a lake located not far from the shrine. He'd prefer to wait until he gets out of the cockpit to slip on his mask, but it's raining and he wishes to avoid getting the smell of wet hair trapped with him inside the helmet. He climbs out of the craft, stretches his legs, always stiff from long trips in a ship so small. He watches the way that the rain makes the surface of the lake ripple, holds out a gloved hand and feels the weight of the fat droplets as they land. Takodan has amazing freshwater resources that are yet untapped. The whole planet seems paused in an unsustainable equilibrium, where there are people on it, but it hasn't been plundered yet. Give it time and it will become as plucked clean as a beebleberry bunch in the paws of a bearded jax.

He can sense N'ktara's location, an unsurprising connection formed from their time training together under Snoke. No other knight can match Kylo for force power, but he feels like a sort of main hub for them when they're near him, like he makes them stronger. The urge to reconnect with them is magnetic, so that even if he wasn't already intending this meeting, his feet might carry him there anyway.

Pakoukou is a Mon Calamari god and so shrines in his honor are built either around or on water. This one is atop the water, but, in deference to its indigenous people, has a floating bridge that leads to it. Before stepping on the bridge, Kylo flexes his force powers. It's overwhelming to sense the life force on a planet with so much variation in flora and fauna. In the force, even the bud of a plant has the amount of presence of a large beast. He feels all the essences dying and growing. It takes him several moments to filter out the non-sentient, to be able to focus on potential threats. The nearby population, just townsfolk, don't seem to offer him any immediate threat. N'ktara inside the building could definitely be a threat, they're as well-trained in combat as himself, but he's looking for ambush. Finding nothing, he continues.

The bridge has the perfect height on the water, but it's still unnerving to feel it dip slightly as he walks. No doubt it has technology that adapts to the rainy seasons, but its mechanics are invisible, making the bridge look as though it's magically levitating, mere millimeters between the surface of the lake and the path his feet take. One of the double doors is slightly ajar, an invitation that he accepts.

N'ktara is a phorot, a lizard-descended people from an Outer Rim planet. Phorots prefer warm climates, never fidget, eat an exclusively carnivorous diet, have no gender, and stole their space travel technology long before they would have invented it for themselves. N,ktara themself, doesn't trust members of other races (with a few exceptions), speaks softly, uses their tail to cheat at cards, and wears rings on each of their 16 fingers.

The shrine's main room of worship is circular and N'ktara stands dramatically in its center. "Kylo," they say, dipping their helmet slightly in deference, but not subservience to his higher role in the Knights.

"N'ktara," he replies. He puts a hand on their shoulder, a gesture of camaraderie which they may or may not respond to. He knows well enough by now not to guess how they'll react to anything.

"The rendezvous is not scheduled for several hours." Their way of letting Kylo know that he's early.

He's not going to admit that he's felt like a caged animal aboard The Finalizer; it's never good to confess weaknesses to this group which has a… delicate loyalty. Instead, he nods, just acknowledging the early time without giving a reason for it.

"I was planning to meditate until then."

"I can join you," he offers. It's been far too long, months, since he's meditated with another force user. The depth of the mind seems to take on new dimensions when it grafts to another's.

They consider the offer, sharing their thoughts with him, that they would hesitate to lose focus here, but since the contact won't arrive for hours, there would be less risk involved. He offers his own thoughts, that they have a point, but they can control how far in they go, that they needn't actually go into a trance which they would probably be inclined to do under less dangerous circumstances.

"I agree to your offer," they say. "But, let us use the basement. There is a lockable hatch door and the stairs are in dangerous condition."

"Sounds perfect," he replies ironically. N'ktara doesn't seem to catch it, but leads the way. He follows behind them and tries not to think for the thousandth time how useful it would be to have a tail. Jealousy is one of the weaker emotions for the darkside, because it is built around a deficiency in the user rather than a strength. Anger and hate, which Kylo has in spades, is much more potent. Still, he's seen N'ktara use their tail for things as mundane as carrying an extra plate to wielding a lightsaber, though the latter was done quite poorly. "Have you still been practicing with your tail?" he asks.

The hatch that they open is a stone one, but mechanized to slide back and forth easily. Beneath the hatch is a set of wooden steps. As they'd warned, the steps look brittle and groan loudly under their feet. Should it collapse, it would be easy enough to jump the remaining distance to the floor, but it holds, complaining loudly about the chore. N'ktara force-slides the hatchway back shut after they are firmly on the damp stone and wood-mixed floor.

He now sees their mask by artificial fire light, projection flames in electronic sconces set on the wall. The entire shrine is built with a rustic ancient feel, though Kylo's sure that the planet hasn't even had inhabitants longer than a few centuries. Emperor Palpatine enslaved the Mon Calamari during his brief reign, so there had been no one to keep up temples on worlds within Empire influence during that time. Apparently, Takodan is not one of the higher priority worlds for the newly freed aquatic creatures to return to.

He senses amusement from N'ktara at his question. His fascination with their tail has long been a source of teasing for them. "I'd be better off attempting to wield my saber with my toes," they joke. "Still wishing you'd been born a phorot?"

Kylo removes his helmet. The moldy air smell hits him immediately, and he almost regrets the decision. He hates humidity for the way it sinks into the pores and the bones, the way it rots wood and bread. N'ktara follow suit as he replies. "I no longer seek to change the past."

"That is an enviable mental state," they say. Kylo denies the part of himself that objects to its veracity. "I would like to begin with our current assignments."

Kylo removes one of his gloves, offers his naked hand, fingers pointed up towards the shrine above them, palm flat, to N'ktara. They respond in kind and he can feel the roughness of their scaled skin against his own. He'd preferred the cool touch to the warmer touch of the other knights'. Somehow it made it feel less intimate which is silly since their minds will delve more deeply together than their hands.

N'ktara's mind is like a vast desert with huge rocks obscuring the landscape. They've got secrets, ones safely tucked behind boulders, but the thoughts and permitted memories roll along like sand pushed by a gentle wind. He sees N'ktara dangling from a tree branch in a dank swamp, awaiting a victim. He can feel their excitement, anticipation, and then finally their dark joy as they assassinate their intended target. He sees them on a battle cruiser, at first he thinks its The Finalizer, but no, just another of the same build. They're listening to speeches, battle plans, watching as they destroy a vessel that has gotten too close to their mining operations. He feels their frustration, being a useless observer. He can relate more than they know. There are other recent missions, and he takes down the important details, but lets most of it drift by. He's getting an overall feel for what Snoke has the other knights doing, feels relieved that N'ktara, at least, is also unutilized for long stretches of time. He almost uncovers one of their secret rocks by accident, stumbling upon some thoughts during a kill. Something about a hatchling. He withdraws himself from it quickly, remembering acutely that this is voluntary information and they owe him nothing of their personal self.

'You're attracted to the General.' N'ktara thinks, observation sounding judgment-free.

In his surprise, Kylo opens his eyes. They still have their nictating membranes shielding their vision, so they probably don't notice. He settles back down, feeling their unspoken assurance that this is between them. Just as he wouldn't trust any of the knights with his life, he doesn't trust any with his feelings. Nonetheless, he's risked his life beside them many times, and they know his feelings, because it's nearly impossible to train in the force with someone and come away defended.

'His view of the world is similar to my own. I sense a kindred spirit there.' It's a large confession, for himself more than for them. N'ktara doesn't care, but Kylo keeps trying to put his thoughts about Hux in the right context.

'Or a mate.'

Suddenly, Kylo wishes he hadn't been so respectful of their thoughts. He almost feels like overturning information about the hatchling, just to strike back.

N'ktara plays a memory for him, Snoke's voice. Just hearing it, even as a secondary voice pulled from the past, strikes fear in him, intimidation. "Emotional attachments can be exploited."

Snoke wasn't wrong. Kylo has only been able to see the lingering affection he feels for Ben's mother as a weakness, one that he hides away deeper than perhaps anything else, deeper than N'ktara is capable of finding. 'The Supreme Leader is correct, as always.'

The rest of the meditation continues uneventfully, at least compared to their poking about in his growing fondness for Hux, and they finish with plenty of time to prepare for the contact's arrival. His worry gets sets aside easily enough, mind disciplined enough to focus on the task at hand when it counts, though perhaps not disciplined enough to heed his master's advice about attachments.


	6. Chapter 6

"And how many times has he shown up in one of your dreams?" asks Dr. Thayer.

"Oh, uh, let's see, four, I think?" It's hard to imagine that it's been so few times, that more of his dreams haven't included the space soldier with the cold green but bloodshot angry eyes and short red hair covered neatly by a little cap. He knows these details because nearly every moment of his waking life has been spent replaying those four dreams over and over in his head. It's good that Ben's shrink takes emergency appointments.

"And how often would you say that he comes into your head during the day, when you're awake?"

Ben laughs nervously. "Um, that's actually why I called. See, I keep having things happen and I'll think, "Hux would like that," or "that would really piss Hux off." It scared him when he realized he'd done that, which is why he's sitting in Dr. Thayer's office alternating between looking at her, the little bookshelf of psychology books with titles like The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma and The Upside of Your Darkside, and the little white noise machine that chugs away in the corner providing privacy when a patient cries.

"What kind of things piss Hux off?" she asks as though it's perfectly natural to inquire about the pet peeves of imaginary dream people.

He can't help but smile, not that she's asking, but at the memories that flit across his head. "Everything pisses him off. A change to his schedule, things not having a back up plan, just like a bunch of things. Even the way that I talk to him."

She nods. "It seems that you enjoy making him angry?"

Usually when Ben is his nightmare alter ego, all he can feel is pure rage, grief, isolation, things like that. This is the first time that Kylo Ren has ever felt, well "tickled" by something. And he feels tickled by this Hux guy. The guy just tries so hard to keep everything operating a certain way and then Ben comes along and messes that up. He tries to be stoic and not react to Ben's childishness, but he keeps getting drawn in anyway, and Ben loves it. "Well, dream me does. I…" he hesitates here, because this is embarrassing to admit even to a shrink, whose job it is to talk down nut jobs like himself. "I think that dream me has a kind of crush on him. Like, I think I'm pissing him off on purpose cause I like him." It was flirting, but like, grade school I-knocked-your-books-down-cause-I-think-you're-cute flirting. Why would a badass space warlord need to get a guy's attention like that? Well, that's because Ben isn't actually a badass space warlord. He's a regular dude who can't handle any grownup situation the proper way because he's emotionally stunted by the dreaded "daddy issues." He begins to wonders if maybe Kylo Ren has daddy issues too, but is interrupted by Dr. Thayer's next question.

"Is homosexual attraction an expected response for you?" she asks, clinically.

"Oh," Ben smiles. "Yeah. I guess I've never talked about, like, my love life with you."

Dr. Thayer is young, probably younger than him. She always has her hair in some form of braid, usually up. It always looks picture perfect, like the chicks on the covers of bridal magazines. He's lucky if he runs a comb through his before coming here. It's the way it should be, probably, her being all professional and putting time into her looks, and him performing the smell test on one of his shirts before throwing it on. She works for him, after all, not the other way around, but he does try and please her because, well, _daddy issues_.

"You haven't much," she corrects. "During your initial intake, I believe you mentioned an ex named Daisy? And more recently, you got asked to dinner by a work client?"

"Oh, Daisy isn't an ex-girlfriend. She's an ex-friend. When I first moved out here from California, she was one of my coworkers in the bar I worked at. She was more trouble than it was worth." He laughs at his own description. "That's probably why you thought she was an ex-girlfriend. God knows she was as much upkeep as one."

Dr. Thayer nods. "Gotchya! My mistake. Well, back to this Hux. Does he remind you of anyone in your waking life?"

One of the things that he'd liked upon initially seeing this shrink is that she uses phrases like "waking life" rather than "real life." She says that she doesn't believe that what people experience when they're asleep should be written off as unreal, because for a time, for them, they are. She's also able to write prescriptions, which is nice, because he now has a bottle of "only in emergencies" sedatives. It's a small, non-lethal sized bottle, which she probably doesn't think that he's noticed. He'd almost said something to that effect, but there's not really a good way to tell someone you aren't suicidal without them immediately assuming that you're lying since you brought it up.

"No, I've never met anyone that even looks like him let alone acts like him. He's got a space stick shoved so far up his ass, I'm surprised it doesn't come out of the top of his head." God, he'd love to be able to say that to Hux. It's too bad that when he's asleep, he isn't really him. That doesn't strike him as something that Kylo Ren would say. Maybe he would, but he'd probably say it more eloquently than Ben could. Kylo Ren chooses his words much more carefully because he doesn't talk as much. Perhaps if Ben began to wear a mask, he would start feeling less like the blabbering dork he is. "It would be fun to tell him that."

"Your dynamic sounds a bit antagonistic."

Ben nods.

"Do you think that could be because of some traits that you do or don't share?"

In any other situation, he would just say "Maybe" but this is therapy, where you're supposed to look inward. It's hard for Ben to look that way because he likes his surface better than his insides. He's like one of those needlepoints where one side looks great but the backside is all messed up, just threads going here and there and little knots and stuff. Do the two of them have any common traits? To answer that, he needs clarification. "Do you mean me and Hux or… dream me and Hux?" He's told her his nightmare version's name before but it feels like betrayal to say it out loud, like he's ratting Kylo out.

"Either," she says.

"Well, dream me and Hux do, I think." His answers are slow, as he tries to look outside of Kylo Ren when he's so used to looking from the inside. "They're both pretty big on power, like maybe they've both been hurt in the past and try to keep control of everything so it doesn't happen again."

"It sounds like you're trying to psychoanalyze him," she reminds. "What if we set aside any assumptions about guarding mechanisms. Try, instead, to look at things that you know."

Right. He's been in therapy too long. "Yeah, maybe I'm guessing about why, but he does like to keep control. He gets mad when I...when dream I… I mean, me... changes up his routines. I'm not sure if dream me cares about stuff like that. I think he cares a lot about how others see him. That's part of why he wears the mask."  
"Is this Hux you're talking…"

"No, I meant Kylo Ren. I don't think Hux cares too much about what others think of him, as long as shit gets done. He really wants his government to rule everything and he wants to be the head honcho helping them do it. I think he's afraid that Kylo will mess that up."

She tilts her braided head, tipping him off to the fact that he's used Kylo Ren's name twice in a short period of time. He's always switching between first and third person with his nightmare self, usually because there's some things that he can't see himself doing and so he puts up a barrier between them. He really has been in therapy too long.

"But, I don't really know Hux very well. That's kind of why I've been picking on him. I want to know more about him and he seems kind of robotic unless he's angry."

"Do you find that this approach works for you in your waking life?"

Ben lets his goofiest grin loose, the one that you can tell what he looked like when he was five to see. "No! No! I mean, when I was a kid maybe."

She laughs. "Okay, so how does Ben generally initiate relationships, romantic or otherwise."

"Does it sound bad if I say small talk at bars?" He winces a bit to hear it. He's not the best at dating. Most of his experience has been anywhere from a one-night stand to about two months or so. It's little wonder that he hasn't brought up any exes to his shrink when he has so few that have mattered.

"Not at all," she assures. "People meet in all kinds of ways. How do your relationships tend to progress after that?"

"That doesn't sound any better," he warns. "I guess they don't usually. Just, his place or mine most of the time. I mean, sometimes we do a real date. It doesn't usually last very long though."

"Would you say these relationships are predetermined to have a short lifespan or that one of you ends it prematurely?"

God, she's so good at putting things. It's like everything has meaning to her and not just in your standard shrinky "gotchya!" sort of way, but like, predetermined lifespans makes his brief interactions with other dudes sound so much more official, more significant than they really are. "The former, most of the time. We kind of get what we came for." He winces a bit at the double entendre but she has the grace to ignore it. "I guess the ones that go for longer, I think the longest was maybe not quite three months? That was the guy saying he felt like he didn't really know me and that it was annoying him. He said that I was never going to actually open up to him."

"Do you feel like that was a correct assessment of the situation?"

"Not really. I mean, just because I'm not sure there's much more to me than he saw. He was probably mostly pissed that I wouldn't let him sleep over. But, I didn't want him to be there while I was freaking out because of a nightmare or something."

She types a few things in her laptop, a sign that either he's said something significant, or that there hour is nearly done. Ben pulls out his phone. It might be both.

"We've covered a lot of new ground today, Ben. Do you feel like we've addressed the issue that's concerning you?"

She's given him a lot to think about, that's for sure. But she didn't answer the one question that scared him into making the appointment. He's pretty sure he's not going to get the response that he wants to hear, but he brings it up anyway. "It's not normal for me be thinking about Hux like he's a real person right? I mean, not when I'm awake. That seems like, like I'm getting worse and not better?"

She sets her laptop aside and leans her body towards him, unspoken language one of comforting, concern, and openness. "I think you're seeing a change in your nightmares. For the first time, you're finding a positive element to them. It seems premature to decide whether that change is a positive or a negative, but that is a call that only you will be able to make. You told me that the character doesn't remind you of anyone in your waking life. Maybe take some time before we meet up next to think about if that still holds true."

"So, you're not worried?" he asks.

"No, I'm not worried."

It's super amazing how much that relieves him. He exhales loudly and it makes her smile, that he'd actually been holding his breath about it. It might not mean that he's crazy, at least not more crazy than he already is. It's just different. Heck, different might be good. He might be turning these nightmares into dreams. Well, Hux might be.


	7. Chapter 7

p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The carpeted hallway that runs from the main cubicle floor to the dinette is, at present, one of the dimly lit metal walkways that connect throughout The Finalizer. He's left his coat on today, so that he can look over his shoulder, pretend to see the patch there. He can't quite remember the details of the symbol, so he tries to invent one in his head only to discover that he's just stolen the Deathly Hallows symbol. Fine, he's not pretending to be a creative genius. The Harry Potter symbol will do for now, because he is General Hux./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"In the 10 am meeting, he watches his coworkers, troopers in slacks and button-up shirts, and he considers assigning them to tasks, maybe sending out a full battalion to secure a new base, or ordering them to jettison one of their own with the charge of treachery. They aren't discussing bottom lines or mergers, but the number of fighter pilots shot down last week and the construction of the most powerful weapon ever conceived. It makes the time pass quicker than usual, this daydreaming, to the extent that he's surprised when his co-workers begin to queue up at the door to leave. Some are discussing going for an early lunch. Oddly, one tries to invite him./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Dom, you in on this?" she asks jovially. The rest aren't really paying attention, too busy chittering or gathering up their things, but he has no doubt that they would be curious about her decision to include him. His disinterest in joining them is immeasurable so he replies, "No, thanks. I had a late breakfast."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""I was hoping to talk to you now anyway," says Reilly, standing next to the unrolled projection screen at the arbitrary front of the room./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Of course," says Dom with a tiny nod. They wait for the room to empty and then Reilly ominously shuts the door. Though empty save for him and Reilly, the room still smells like coffee and various degrees of lethargy and boredom. Awkwardly looking between a seat and Reilly, he asks, "Should I sit down for this?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Reilly shrugs. "This won't take long."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Okay." Dom is a great worker. He's never in his life been fired, but even he's made a bit nervous by that answer. It wouldn't be unheard of for even a great worker to be let go if the company needed to make some cuts and they were one of the most recent employees hired./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Reilly laughs. "Don't look so nervous. I'm not firing you or anything!" He leans his sizeable frame on the top of the meeting table, one cheek squishing down next to a ring of condensation. "Do you remember when you came to me last month about wanting a lead position?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"It's been less than two weeks, and Dom still acutely feels the sting of the words spoken then, but he nods because he gets that for Reilly, it hadn't been one of the most depressing days in his life./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Well, I talked to Mel Simpson about it. He said there's an opening for an assistant manager position at our branch in Boston." The smile across his supervisor's face nearly smug. Obviously, he's delighting in bringing this information, but Dom isn't even sure what to make of it./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Boston, America?" asks Dom, both because he's genuinely surprised and because Reilly had paused to allow the question./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Right. Well, I wanted to run it by you before I went to bat for you. I know you're pretty eager to move up in the ranks, but that's also quite the relocation. Figure you might want to run the possibility by your family first, sleep on it a bit. Now, I can't guarantee that the position will be yours, but there's no point in starting the process if you'd rather stay here anyway."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Assistant manager of a branch isn't bad for having been with First Order for less than a year. It's not exactly his end goal, but it has a much better ring to it than 'maybe in a few years you can have a bigger cubicle.'/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Please do start the process. I'll take it if the company thinks I'm a good fit for the position."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Reilly chuckles and slaps his thigh in what Dom instantly thinks of as hillbilly, but he'd better get used to that if he's heading to America. "Dom, you are always so professional! You sure you don't want to take some time? Maybe run it by a girlfriend or your folks or something?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Dom shakes his head. "No, I'm sure. No need to run it by anyone."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Alrighty then," says Reilly, pushing himself up from the table. "I'll let Mel know and I'll put in the official recommendation. If you have any professional letters of reference you want to add to the kitty, go ahead and get those to me whenever you can."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""I provided two upon my hire than I can reprint. If you think more will help, I can reach out to other former coworkers."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Just send me those. I'll pass them along to Mel." he starts to leave the meeting room but stops and adds, "I hope you get it, Dom."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Dom thanks him but as he's standing there considering the ramifications of that wish, it occurs to him that Riley very well could have been saying he's looking forward to putting an ocean between them./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"By the time he wraps up work for the day, Dom's already researched work Visas, moving and storage costs, the latter because he doesn't plan to stay in America forever, and researched housing costs in Boston. Americans rent out their flats on the monthly so his first response of sticker shock turns out to be unwarranted. He doesn't print his findings, not on the company dime, but he does save the information in cloud storage./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The logistics of the move shouldn't be too tricky, not for someone as logically minded as him. He has already started a spreadsheet. He'll be sure not to omit any steps or overlook any pertinent information. The personal ramifications might be trickier. He doesn't know anything about Boston except for the tea party and the Red Sox. The things that he knows about America itself are far from endearing. As for the family that Reilly was encouraging him to consult, well his one family member rubs against his damp pant legs upon his return home, leaving a trail of wispy orange hair in her wake./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Dom scoops her up into his arms, an act that she resists because she insists, vehemently, that cuddles are to be initiated by her and her alone. "Hey," he says sharply. "How would you feel about living in America?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Millicent pauses in her struggles at his words. She looks at him in shocked annoyance and then lets her claws loose, attempting to get him to drop her (which works) but not to actively harm him (which fails). He swears at the little newly formed perforations that stand out pink millimeters away from his mostly healed but very itchy wound. "Should I leave you here then?" he asks her. She's grooming herself, washing away all evidence of human molestation. "I have half a mind to do just that!" He takes off his coat. "I could get a dog instead, a big dumb beast who would love for me to play with it."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"It's an idle threat. Dom is a cat person without the time necessary to devote to a dog. Plus, he loves Millicent, even if the love effort is primarily one-sided. Frankly, he's had human relationships like that as well and none of those men were better looking than Millicent./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"As Dom cooks dinner for himself, a quick chicken stir-fry that is more utilitarian than delicious, he tells Millicent about the potentially pending job offer. He pitches it to her as a new experience, as though it isn't terrifying that they'll be so far away. He says that it's practically unheard of to have reached a branch assistant manager position so quickly, though he may be making that up, and that he expects to be able to overthrow the current manager there in no time, even coming up with some highly illegal ways of doing so. He has her full attention and he pretends that it isn't just her hopes that he will drop some of the chicken, but that she's following the conversation and has an opinion on their upcoming relocation./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"He considers the fact that she's the only person he has ever felt himself be so fanciful around. She never judges his words, not even when he'd told her about the space dream and how happy it had made him. "Do you think that maybe I'll have the space dream tonight?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"He's had good luck - six dreams so far. It's nothing short of amazing. The only time in his life he's ever had a recurring dream, it's been of the 'naked in class' variety, certainly never with any sort of continuity to them. The last few introduced a sort of antagonist character, a Kylo Ren. Dom has mixed feelings about the character who is essentially that one annoying coworker whom everyone celebrates the transfer of out of the department. Certainly, his dream self is driven crazy by Ren, but when Dom tries to identify individual things that could cause that, he comes up empty-handed. Of course, he's not exactly in his most capable frame of mind while he's asleep. He does desperately hope every night that he'll return to the futuristic dream world, wishes that he knew the special combination to summon them. He tries not to allow himself to entertain the thought of just staying in bed, sleeping constantly, to increase his chances./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Some chicken does "accidentally" make its way to the floor, but the small piece doesn't stop Millicent from begging for more next to him as he peruses the internet for more information about the move. It's pretty miserably cold in Boston, from the look of it. Luckily, England and the US seem to have similar animal control laws, so it's not impossible to ship cats. Hell, from what he sees, she won't even need to be in quarantine. She's going to hate that trip! He hopes that Americans know little enough about their own history that he won't be too shunned for having a British accent in a place renowned for its act of colonial rebellion./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Ben stays up a bit too late looking at all the odds and ends about the move. He's excited and nervous and when he climbs into bed, he's convinced that he's going to be awake all night going over everything. Instead, he gets his wish tonight, as though asking it out loud to Millicent made it happen, and does indeed return in his dreams to his spaceship, The Finalizer./span/p 


	8. Chapter 8

p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"It's been one of those days. It's rare for him to have one like this. The only rarer type of day is probably the one where he lies on his cot and watches holo-vids or reads for pleasure all day long. That has happened three times that Hux can recall. The day like today, where he contemplates resigning his command, taking the credits he's managed to stash away from the less than meager pittance he's paid, buying a little house on a planet no one has ever heard of where he can curl up with a mug of tea and some sort of furred pet and just imagine that he is the only being capable of speech in the galaxy. This has happened somewhere in the vicinity of twelve times, which is still very rare as his life has seen 35 years worth of days./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"If it's possible for brains to get cramps, then he has them, because this isn't quite a headache so much as it as soreness from overuse. He is quite used to being the one that the men turn to when something goes wrong; this is, in fact, his job. He thrives on being useful. But, when every question is a stupid one, when every mechanical glitch can't be fixed, when it's somehow three hours past the end of his shift and he hasn't even gotten to the fourth item on his agenda, then that elation at being the engine that keeps this ship going turns into something sour and angry./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"He rubs at the little groove that shows up when he's either thinking very hard, which he has been, or when he's angry, which he is. Hux isn't a vain man, but he is not looking forward to seeing that divot deepen and obtain permanence on his face like it had on Brendol Hux's. There are many ways that Armitage attempts to be like his father, appearance is not one./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Look, if /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"you/span /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"can't figure out, then perhaps you should find someone more mentally equipped to handle the task!" he snaps at the engineer before him./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The engineer, Thompson, opens his mouth, then shuts it. He's used to everyone in his department being beneath him, people that he can yell at. When he opens it again, it's in an artificially calm way. "It's more of a matter of not having the right tool for the job. I put it in a request for that weeks ago, but there's been a coup on Corellia and we're delaying a trip there."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"If The First Order had the sway (or the funds or the manpower) that the Empire had, this wouldn't be an issue. Hux and the others working so diligently to restore order to the galaxy are constantly having to meet this hindrance head on. They are not the Empire. Not yet./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"He again brings his gloved hand up to rub his forehead. "I'm sure there are other planets where it can be found, Thompson."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Would you sign another requisition order for one from Kuat?" Thompson asks hopefully./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Of course!" Hux snaps. "We don't just let the ship fall apart around us because one planet is having problems with its government! Write it up and show it to me tomorrow."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The man nods and says "Yessir," before walking away./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Hux has officially had it with this day. He is tired of the hand-holding and the idiots whose hands need held. "Yaaja, I'm leaving you in charge."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Yessir," answers Yaaja. Technically it's been her shift for the last three hours, but ranking being what it is, she'd have taken a backseat to any orders that he'd be giving./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Time to go burn some of this anger./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The Finalizer was never meant to be a luxury starship. It's a battle cruiser, armed to its teeth. There aren't a lot of leisure activities on board. So, when one finds downtime, not that Hux often does, residents tend to gravitate to one of the many gyms/sports courts on board. The one closest to the command center is unofficially used only by higher ranking officers, never by just grunt troopers. So, at the moment, it's just him and Officer Brite. Two people in a large area packed with machines of all varieties. Options include cardio, strength, and neural training and adjacent courts for any manner of group games./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"At first, Hux, wearing stiff grey pants with a stretchy waistband and a grey short-sleeved shirt, runs in place just to get his heart going, send it a message that it's about to work out. Then, he walks over to the wall with holes going all the way up to the ceiling. He grabs the two climbing pegs and sets to work scaling one hole at a time. It requires incredible upper body strength that Hux tries to have. It's important to stay in top condition in all manners, but it's hard for him to find time to come here. He only goes as often as he does in order to stay battle ready. Coming down here feels too much like play and play doesn't earn anyone command of starships. When he reaches the top, it's just an easy jump down to the mats. By that point, his shoulders are shaking and his forehead has burst into a sweat. His hands are sweaty too but he hadn't lost his hold. Good, it's a good place to start a workout./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Then, striding in as arrogantly as possible from inside his dead dictator costume, Kylo Ren appears in the gym. He looks in surprise at Hux, maybe because he's never seen him here, maybe because he's wearing normal clothing, or maybe because that clothing is sweaty. Whatever reason, Hux feels judged and resents it. After all, it is Kylo Ren who has come in dressed in full Kylo Ren regalia. "Are you planning on working out in your mask?" Hux asks, feeling more impertinent than usual, loosened up by the bodily exertion./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The mask looks around, notices that there is no one else but Hux, Brite having already headed out. Then, the mask looks for a long while at Hux. Again, he feels like he is being judged, or maybe studied. It's hard to say when he can't actually see Ren's face. "Perhaps a game of goothball?" Hux asks mockingly. The idea of Ren backhanding a goothball, racquet in hand, all while wearing his long black robes and helmet would make a less jaded man laugh. Though, it does almost make him smile, an unaccustomed feature on his face./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The mask nods. "Yes, but it's been sometime since I've played."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Hux blinks. 'I was joking,' almost comes out of his mouth, but he waits, holds it there to see what Ren does next./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Ren sits down on a bench and his large hands fiddle with his mask. Hux inhales quickly, unable to not find this impending reveal as terribly exciting. Will his crew's conjectures be found accurate? Will he be covered in scars to the point where all that can be seen is one hideous morose eye? Probably not. Will he be an alien so ugly that to view him causes madness? Also, probably not. But, then, what? What is underneath the mask? The mask comes off./span/p 


	9. Chapter 9

p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Slowly, Dom's eyelids rise up like blinds in the morning letting in the sun on a beautiful day. Most of his face is pressed flat into his mattress. He stares at the cream colored sheet beneath his face. Kylo Ren is beautiful. He closes his eyes again, recalls with the perfect clarity of a mind still half asleep the full lips, the large nose, the perfect black hair that haloes around his face, the small chin, the ears, huge though mostly hidden by the hair, the eyes, sullen and resigned, expectant, like he'd been waiting for Hux to say something cutting like usual. And the lips again, because even in just his imagination they deserve an encore./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Oh, why did his subconscious make him so beautiful? So Dom's type? He tries desperately to take a mental polaroid, not wanting to lose a single detail of the image. His eyebrows had been black, thick, but not bestially so. His eyes had been on the smaller size, but he'd been too distracted by the insecurity, the openness in them to notice. Had the earlobes attached? Dom thinks so, but isn't sure. Were there piercings in them? Damn, he wish he'd had longer before the surprise of seeing Kylo Ren, leader of the Knights of Ren, Sith Apprentice to Master Snoke as just a guy, a good-looking, 30-something, expressive-eyed, luscious-lipped guy, had pushed him that last bit of the way towards wakefulness that he'd already been fighting./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"And why did his hair looks so perfect after having been in a fucking helmet for hours? Dom's hair had never looked like that, even after a visit to the salon!/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Dom rubs his face into his pillow. He's officially become so lonely that he's invented an imaginary love interest for himself. "Bugger," he whispers sadly. The pillow muffles the sound, but not enough to keep Millicent from hearing, apparently, for she appears like a loud hungry genie on the bed next to him. When he doesn't respond to her meows, she pokes at the back of his head. "Leave me to die alone in peace, you needy trollop!" She returns to meowing./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"He pulls his head up and looks at her. "Why did I make him so lovely?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Millicent doesn't answer./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Oh God!" He pulls the blanket up over his head incidentally dislodging the cat and returns his face to his pillow. "I /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"am/span /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"going to die alone! I'm going to die an old cat gentleman!" He knows that there's actually something potentially worse that could happen. He could just sleep all the time hoping to initiate a relationship with an imaginary space serial murderer who wears a silly getup over his emotive eyes and kissable lips. He imagines the padded walls now, the psychologists speaking about him as though he isn't there, "The patient lives mostly in his own head now. We wheel him out to the gardens for brunch but he fully believes himself to be on a spaceship. He becomes violent when we attempt to wake him."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"In the dream though, Dom didn't feel happy there either. It's weird that there's that disconnect. When Dom wakes up from a dream about Hux, he feels charged up with the importance of the position, the fulfillment of working hard towards a worthwhile goal. However, when he /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: oblique; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"is/span /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Hux, he's stressed out, unhappy about everything but the cause. Everything is about the next moment, never about the current one. If Dom did go mad and reside in his dreams forever, it might give him a purpose, but it wouldn't make him less alone or any happier./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Dom remembers what it felt like to scale the wall of the gym as Hux. He's certainly never had upper strength like that. It makes sense that in space, they would need to work harder to keep their muscles toned. They wouldn't have to worry about the muscle loss from zero gravity, but the long periods of inactivity in between missions would probably take its toll on both the cardio and the muscle systems. He'd felt high from the exercise. That was probably the only reason why he'd been taunting Ren, not expecting Ren to join them. If Dom had kept sleeping, would they have played a game of goothball together? He has it nebulously in his head that the game is like racquetball but different, maybe having holes and colors? It's hard to remember and he doesn't want to waste any spare memories on the trivial aspects of the dream. But, would Ren have stripped down then? Maybe shed down to just the black pants beneath his robes? How odd would that have looked? Kylo Ren, a normal dude at the gym?/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Dom looks at the clock. He's woken up an hour before he needs to get up for work, but he doesn't feel like trying to go back to sleep. He wants to scale a wall. He wants to be more than himself. "Right," he announces to the world. Millicent, who hasn't gone far from the side of the bed, tears off to the kitchen assuming that he's just said "breakfast." And why can't she have breakfast now? Just because it isn't quite the time he feeds her, that doesn't mean that he can't, doesn't mean that the world will end if he feeds her early. Just thinking this chaotic thought makes him a tad uncomfortable, like he's just announced that he's made it his goal for the day to rob a bank./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"He looks at himself in the rather inappropriate full-length loo mirror, inappropriate because it looks over not just the sink area, but the toilet as well. The face he sees staring back at him looks more innocent than he often feels, but he likes what he sees in the eyes this morning. The dreams have this utterly ridiculous effect on him. It's like walking into a motivational poster./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Hey Millicent!" he calls out. Sure enough, her orange highness appears expectantly. "I'm going to the gym."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"His flat is a touch on the fancy side, which he hadn't really needed but it was offering such good deals since the building had just reopened, he couldn't pass it by. Plus, he's not that many stops away from his work. When they'd tried to sell him on the amenity of having a gym in the building, he'd scoffed. It wasn't that he was a lardass or anything like that, but some nights he only has enough time to shove dinner in his mouth before having to get to bed to get ready to go to work and do it all over again. He's a busy, professional man. Also, he's a bit on the scrawny side. Always has been. There's no point in him trying to deny it to preserve his ego. He could spend all bloody day in a gym and he'd still come out of it looking like the stereotypical ginger with sand in his face at a beach. But he's not here to try and change his appearance. He's here because it had felt good to do it in the dream./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"It takes a good five minutes just to find the electronic key card that permits him entrance to the gym. He never thought he'd need it, so he'd stuffed it in his leasing packet. Luckily, he keeps meticulous records and finds it under the "Housing" file section in a white formerly sealed welcome packet. It works when he pushes it against the black pad next to the door. Then, he's in the gym and completely lost. Not literally, of course. The room, despite the office manager's ravings, is no bigger than the average family den. But he doesn't actually know what to start with. There's no peg wall, but that had seemed beyond his current capabilities anyway. There are two treadmills, one stationary bike, one complex looking weight machine, a row of dumbbells of varying weights, a standard weight bench with giant free weights already hung up, and a rowing machine that looks like it's seen better days./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Dom's in great luck that there are no other residents in the gym because he feels so awkward. He tries out each type of machine. He's tentative and unsure. He reads the instructions on the fancy weight machine. It can be used for so many different exercises! He runs through, picture by picture, testing it out, seeing where his starting weights are for the different exercises and he jots the numbers down on his phone. He enjoys some more than others. The treadmill can get pretty fast and he likes the resounding of his sneakers on the conveyer belt. The stationary bike pinches his balls and he uses that for the shortest amount of time./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"He's so lost in play that he stays too long, nearly 15 minutes past when he should already be on his way to work! He hasn't worked up a sweat really, but there would be no way on Earth he would touch all that used equipment without a quick shower. It's the oddest feeling. He's standing under the water, maybe a touch too hot, but it's winter and that's a minor indulgence, and he knows that he's running late, but he doesn't feel like the world will come crashing down because of it. He's usually early, so this might put him on time, but it could make him late and still, he's fretting about it in a small, restrained way./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Even on the train, which is usually such a sad place for him, such a shining example of the hopelessness of his future, he keeps his cool. He's not tapping his foot desperately willing the train to go faster, to transcend the limitations as physics. He's just googling exercises that can be done on the machines available to him at his flat's gym. There's still enough of his usual uptightness to leap to his feet like a cat chewing an electrical cord when his stop arrives and it does bring a great deal of relief to have made it less than ten minutes late. Considering his lollygagging in the shower, it could have been a lot worse./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Throughout the day, Dom behaves in a manner consistent with all the other 'useless' employees. He looks up the cultural differences of living in America. Every article mentions how he'll need to have a car because things are so much more spread out in America. That's consistent with how he thinks of the country. Dom finds the thought rather exciting, not being at the whim of a transit schedule, though he hadn't been that great of a driver when he'd taken the classes years ago. As a matter of fact, he remembers his father's great disappointment to find that he wasn't immediately Dale Earnhardt./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Dom also continues his exercise research. He finds proper forms for the strength training exercises - though it seems that these are more necessary for the free weights than the machines, which are geared towards the uninitiated. He finds some routines, but Dom figures he'll come up with his own in time, maybe just haphazardly float through different exercises as he did this morning. He may be working towards some undefined goal, but he's in no rush to get there./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"He fritters away the day this way. Oh, he does some work, of course, the things that can't wait, but overall, he absolutely has not earned his wages for the day. The slacking increases his father's voice in his head, but he resolves to return to being exemplary tomorrow. Today was a celebration, a celebration of Dom looking to the future, not with grim determination, but with a playful optimism./span/p 


	10. Chapter 10

p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Like most people, Ben likes Christmas a touch more than most of the other holidays. While Halloween is a contender for best holiday ever (who wouldn't love the dressing up, eating candy, and watching Jason Voorhies knock off horny teenagers?), there's something undeniably magical about Christmas with its bright lights, irreproducible optimism, and all the people that suddenly want to feed him. He's mostly enjoying some icing with a bit of sugar cookie underneath when his co-worker Juan asks him what he's doing for Christmas. "Well," he starts, a bit of flaky green icing falling out of his mouth. He finishes chewing before answering, trying not to smile at the amusement his clumsiness causes. "I've had four people invite me to have Christmas dinner with their families and two for Christmas Eve. I told them all probably, so I think I'm not gonna need to eat again until New Year's."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Juan laughs. "Well, I'll toss my hat into the ring as well, if you want to visit with my family during your Christmas Dinner spree."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Ben smiles and nods. "I'll probably show up."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""At this point, you're going to need to be like Santa yourself, hitting all the places in one night. And you'll look like him by the end."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The little kitchenette in Empire Glass is seldom used. It's the cleanest room in the factory by far, kept up mostly by the secretaries out front. They've attached little construction paper Christmas trees and Santas to the fronts of the cabinet doors. The plate from which Ben had grabbed his icing disc has a sign reading "EAT ME!" propped against it. Since he's on the road for his job, Ben doesn't bring in lunch, opting instead for fast food./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Ben looks at the plate. "I'll take a couple to Gwen. I'm hitting her stop today."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Juan is lead production manager in the factory, so while he doesn't go out to the different customers like Ben, he at least knows their names. "I've heard she's kind of a bitch," he suggests lightly./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Ben laughs. "Yeah, I think she'd say that's true. She probably hates sugary stuff too." He doesn't say it, because he doesn't want it getting back around to the gal at the front desk who made them, but these cookies are pretty bad and probably wouldn't appeal to even the sweetest teeth. He's actually thinking he'll make it look like they're more popular than they are if he takes some to Gwen. She can chuck 'em if she wants and with the baker none the wiser. "She's pretty awesome."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""One of these days, I'll ride along with you on deliveries. Then I'll be able to put some faces to the names."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Speaking of… I'd better get going." Ben wipes at the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand. He'll peek in his rearview mirror and make sure he got it all. It's good enough for now though. "They've had me loaded up since 9."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Oh right," says Juan. "You're working half days this week."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Quarter days, really." He'd come in at 10, four hours later than he usually does. Shipping is putting the longer distance drives together, only one shipment out to Taunton in two weeks. Even with how long they're waiting for that trip, there's still not that many units to take out there. Not surprising since it's the day before Christmas eve. Soon, sales associates will be sneaking downstairs while their kids are asleep and packing the underside of trees with presents and installers will make their way around rich neighborhoods with their church groups singing carols. Productive life will come to a screeching halt while everyone re-enacts generation-old traditions./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Anyway, Merry Christmas! I'm off!" Ben says, snapping out of his holiday reverie. He snatches up some cookies in a white napkin and makes his way to the truck. /span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"When Ben drives, he usually listens to music. He likes to sing along loudly, so loudly, in fact, that there are days when he returns the truck with a scratchy voice. He doesn't have much of a range but the notes he can hit are fine. He can fool listeners into thinking he's a good singer if the song stays within that small assortment of notes that his deep voice can make. When he's by himself, of course, he is free to strain too high or too low at his leisure, butchering any song that crosses his path./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Today, he's enjoying something he can't ever remember enjoying before. He flashes back to his dreams, reliving them, and expanding them. Normally when his shrinks have him go back and change one of his dreams, it's to try and get him to take away the dreams' power. How can you make this silly? They'll ask. Well, not a lot of ways one can make slaughtering a group of children silly. But he would try. 'Maybe they're not children but balloons? Could you be popping balloons with your sword?' Ben had not looked at a balloon the same way again. But now, he's having dreams that he likes. Well, partially. He's still having the nightmares but they've got this element to them that he likes. Well, one character./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"General Hux. Kylo Ren watches Hux closer than a retail employee does a clock. He's memorized all those little mannerisms, some of them obvious, like how Hux rubs at his forehead when he hasn't had enough sleep or someone is annoying him, and some of them subtle, like how he always enters the command center with his right foot first, as though he's in a military parade. Kylo Ren is hypnotized by these things. Ben can see what it is that he likes about Hux, but he's not sure why Kylo is so taken. Maybe it's because in Hux, Kylo sees something of himself, sees shared flaws. Maybe it's because Hux doesn't show a single lick of fear around him. He might as well be a pesky child that Hux is babysitting for how he treats him. For Kylo, that's unique. Ben wonders why it feels okay when Hux treats him that way, feels good even. His alter ego does also have "daddy issues."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Ben likes Hux because he's smart and decisive. He's cute in an insomniac ginger way, too. Ben thinks that if Hux was ever to smile, not smirk like he sometimes does but truly smile, that he could be delicious. The closest that Ben has ever come to seeing a smile on those thinly pressed lips was the most recent dream, where they played goothball together./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Is there any point to playing a game with a force user?" Hux asks. At least he is no longer looking at Kylo like he'd changed into a three-headed rancor. Kylo had taken off his helmet in the gym before, but Hux had never been here to see it, never seen him maskless and exposed. The solid ten seconds of the general staring at him with shock had been almost too much to bear. Kylo had resisted the urge to grab the helmet and hide again only by the smallest of fractions. Before Snoke, he would have instantly, unable to handle the curious judgment and possible rejection. Instead, he sat still, willing the color not to rise to his cheeks as Hux viewed his features - the big nose, the fluffy hair, the giant ears. It was never Kylo's looks that gave him an advantage in life, it was always his birth and then, later, his force powers. It's hard even now, to have someone look upon him and think that he looks, well, a bit like a Corellian Beardless Crane, especially someone that he respects./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Force use is not involuntary," he assures./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Hux squints a bit. "Yes, but is it… Nevermind. Fine, I'm in." His resolution says everything that Kylo needs to know about how seriously the general is taking this little match in the gym. It also tips him off that Hux had not expected Kylo to actually take him up on the offer of a game. Perhaps he'd just been joking./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Kylo nods and begins to remove his outerwear. Hux jumps up from the bench where he'd been sitting. His face is pink and Kylo can feel Hux's embarrassment through the force. "I'll fetch the equipment. Will a 22 racquet suffice?" he asks, not making eye contact with Kylo./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Yes," says Kylo, unable to keep the amusement from his voice. He's fully dressed underneath his robes with high-waisted black pants and a black sleeveless top with ruching on each side. Did Hux think he'd be otherwise? Space is cold. Even with the temperature controls, Kylo believes that he can still feel the cold that lurks beyond the hull. It could be imagination or just poor circulation./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Looking more composed and less pink, Hux returns with their racquets and a cylindrical container holding three white balls. Kylo accepts his racquet as Hux again looks at the change in his appearance. 'Yes,' thinks Kylo. 'Kylo Ren is a person.' But Hux should know that, dammit. He's not one of the silly crewmen that treat him like some sort of mythical figure. The symbol of Kylo Ren has importance, but of course, there's still him underneath. "Lead the way," he prompts, hoping that Hux will get on with the sport so that the scrutiny ends./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The goothball courts aboard the Finalizer are the nicest that he's ever played in. Most places that have courts are run down. Either the balls don't change color like they should (the color of the last hitter's racquet), or not all of the six holes light up, that sort of thing. He's only had the chance to play one time since he's been here, which admittedly hasn't been long, but everything worked perfectly and, moreover, it felt new and well constructed./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"They start the first match. It's pretty obvious that Hux is out of practice. Goothball is challenging because it's about both aim and timing. The holes are small, only diametrically double the size of the ball itself and you only score when you successfully hit the ball in while the hole is illuminated the same color as your racquet. Hux's shots are going too far off the mark for it to matter which color he's aiming for. He's trying though, pale cheeks red with exertion and eyes intent, nearly crazed with effort./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""It seems that you're out of practice," Kylo voices after winning the first match./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Hux glares at him. "The first game is yours. We'll see about the next."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Kylo can't stop his smile even though he knows it's probably a bad idea to antagonize him too much. He doesn't want Hux to take this as seriously as he probably will. The point of the exercise is to train the body and the mind. He'd just been expecting to work out as normal, choosing an off-peak time for using the gym and as soon as he'd seen Hux sitting there, dressed down in civilian clothing, Kylo wanted to keep him there, keep him like that for as long as he could. Is it any wonder, then, that his brain blocked any humor in Hux's suggestion, tried to see it as an actual challenge?/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The room echos with a satisfying thwack whenever they hit the ball. The constantly changing rings of lights around the holes they're aiming for create dancing patterns on the room. Hux does much better the second round, finding his aim though not his timing, and his intensity begins to transform into something resembling pleasure. Hux is enjoying himself now that he's not playing terribly. He still loses, but the game is more sportsmanlike./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Hux says, "I think I've got time for one more, though you've won the night."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Kylo replies earnestly, "I'd love to."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"That's when he sees a thing very close to a smile on Hux's lips and they begin round three./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Ben had woken up feeling giddy, like he'd just gone on a really good date. His brain doesn't seem to care that Hux is an imaginary person, an imaginary coworker if he's really gonna start listing off reasons why this isn't a good thing; it's still releasing copious amounts of oxytocin, giving him lusty romantic feelings one way or the other. What would it have been like if after the game, they'd gone at it like rabbits right there in the gym of the starship? What would Hux be like in bed? These questions had been flitting through his lizard brain fucking constantly since then. With the long bursts of driving time, he's having a chance to ponder them in detail./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Maybe they accidentally collide with each other on the court. 'Shit! Are you okay?' asks Ben. He's half-sprawled on top of Hux. Nothing feels broken on his part, so he looks down at Hux, checking to see the damage of the human pillow beneath him. Hux smiles at him, goofily, which the situation warrants but which still melts Ben. 'I'd be better if I didn't have all your weight on me!' he says, but it doesn't sound like he means it. 'Do you want me to get up?' Ben asks with a playful tone. Hux, surprised by the flirtation, stammers, 'I...I mean, yes! Do you think I intend to just lay here all night?' Then, catching his own words, attempts to backtrack from that, but Ben cuts the pedaling off with his lips./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"No, probably not. He can't see Hux going for that. He'd probably just be mad that he was being squished./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Maybe, then, after they wrap up in the court, Hux makes a move. He watches Kylo put back on the robes and the belt, like he's disappointed to see Kylo putting his clothes back on. But that's probably wishful thinking on Kylo's part. "Did you want to play another game?" he asks, wondering if that's responsible for the wistful look on Hux's face. "Of a sort," says Hux crossing the distance between them. He places a hand behind Kylo's head and pulls him in for a kiss./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Strong no to that one. Again, the cheesy lines don't feel very Huxish. The thing is, Ben isn't sure how something would kick off between Kylo and Hux. They're both so proud; he can't really see either of them making a first move. It would have to be something mutually felt and pretty much synchronized. Ben is pretty sure this attraction goes both ways. The way that they antagonize each other always feels more playful than pointed. If they wanted to destroy each other, they could. Ben suspects that it's the closest thing that Hux has to entertainment on the Finalizer. Then, with the two of them interacting as they did, with Kylo dressed down in normal streetwear, face exposed, Ben got the impression that Hux was into it that way too. Maybe. Hell, it's his dream, he might as well make it be so. He's never put so much thought into the preferences of a figment of his own imagination before./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The very short work shift passes quickly with his Hux daydreams and speculations. The highlight of the actual work part is giving Gwen the smuggled sugar cookies. She looks at him with a 'really?' sort of look on her face as she unwraps the napkins to find a splatter of green icing. "Thank you?" she asks exaggerating both words./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"He smiles. "I thought of you as soon as I saw them!" he jokes, laughing at the disgusting little pile that the cookies ended up becoming shoved in his pocket./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Gwen flips him the bird which he accepts happily since he totally deserves it. "You missed an awesome Thanksgiving."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Yeah, sorry about that. I ended up a bit too drunk to be driving very far."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Well, you have to come to my New Years Party then, and I won't take no for an answer on that one. Don't forget that you also turned down my fourth of July party too."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"He frowns. "You have a lot of parties." Then, he feels like an asshole because she actually does look hurt. "Count on me for New Years!"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"She studies him, trying to glean how much he's just trying to placate her. He opens his eyes wide, daring her to find any lack of sincerity in his offer. "Good. I'll text you the address."/span/p 


	11. Chapter 11

p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Dom has been on his own since he was sixteen. That was when Brendol had taken him aside in the renovated garage that served as his father's study and demanded that Dom join the army. Even though the room had not housed a car in over twenty years, the exhaust smell was saturated into the walls. It mixed with the smell of books, hid within the rugs beneath Brendol's coffee-colored leather easy chair, and lurked behind glass cases of medals and war memorabilia and collectibles. Dom hated stepping into the room, always a place of punishments or ultimatums. "Meet me in my study," were words that guaranteed that Dom would spend the rest of the day (at least) miserable. This particular day, Dom had predicted far in advance. Despite his perfect grades, participation on the football team, and weekly attendance at the same Lutheran church that had once seen his father and stepmother's wedding, Brendol often complained of his son's lack of discipline. What he could be finding fault with, anyone could guess. At school, he was often pointed to by mothers as the paragon of educational virtue. Brendol failed to see any of the accomplishments that others saw. To him, his son was just plain not good enough. Becoming a soldier would be the only way that would straighten the boy out and he often said so over awkward dinners where his bulldozed stepmother would sit quietly only offering up agreements lest she be seen as second-guessing her husband./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"So, when Dom stepped into the room where his father spent most of his home time, he believed he was prepared for the speech that Brendol would give. And it did go just as Dom expected, complete with admonishments for how his son lacked adequate discipline and a proper vision of the future. Life, according to Brendol was not just something that happened, not if you wanted to have a life worth living. It required strategy, effort, and fortitude. Did Domnhall think that everything Brendol had in his life had just happened out of coincidence? No, it was Brendol himself who had taken the reins of his life. Then, the expected ultimatum had come. Dom would put his education on hold and join the military, just as his father and his grandfather had done./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Dom had looked around at the pictures of fighter planes, the paddle on the wall that had reddened his backside when he'd misbehaved as a child, and most importantly, the photograph of their family with its patriarch and the two subdued other members - a wife too disenfranchised to have any effect on her own life and a son too terrified and beaten down to do anything but be a good picture really shows a self-important jailer and two prisoners. In the army, it would be more of the same, more people telling him what to do and then telling him he hadn't done it good enough, to do it over. An entire institution of men like his father who never saw any of the good in anyone but themselves and who bullied everyone weaker than themselves./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Though the ultimatum was expected, Dom's response was not. He surprised them both that day when the words, "I believe I'll stay in school," came forth from his lips as though he was opting for a certain type of tea and not being brazenly defiant for the first time in his life./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"After his father's initial surprise, he waved off Dom's words, perhaps not wanting to accept what was happening in this petrol-scented room. "Bah, plenty of time to return to classes later. Those sorts of things can wait. And you'll be better equipped to handle them once you've gotten yourself some discipline, some life experience."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Dom had locked eyes with his father, similar green eyes unwavering on both sides. "I'm not joining up."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The fall out was tremendous and by the time the sun had set, Dom had found himself, bags in hand, on the wrong side of a door with no key. He'd never before nor since been more terrified, more utterly lost. Dom had felt himself weak even then, but he hadn't acquiesced to his father, not even then when everything in the world had been taken from him and his life was as bleak as the dark clouds that poured on his hair, clothes, and luggage. Instead of knocking on the door like the scared puppy he felt like, he had taken his money, a trifle for a man without a home, and put himself up in a hostel for the night. He'd cried in a room with foreigners making sightseeing plans. He'd cried for how cold and lost and miserable he was, but he'd also cried because it was finally over. The manipulation and the mistreatment were over. He was finally free of Brendol Hux for good and so he cried because he was scared and alone and happy./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"It's been nearly twenty years since he'd left home, but the sensation of being in a new country starting all over again has the memories of that day dancing about on the periphery of his brain. Dom looks up at his apartment building, luggage being set on the curb by the brusque taxi driver, and he feels extremely out of his element. He reminds himself that it's a new adventure, something to shake up the unimpressively linear path of his life then tries to quiet the voice underneath that that reminds him that he despises change and adventure./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""You good?" the driver asks after closing his trunk. It's nice of him to even ask. Dom has Millicent's carrier in his hand and that's the most important bit of his luggage, so with a quick look at the taxi as though he's going to be able to see anything he left behind in the backseat from outside the car, he replies, "Yes, thank you."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"It's only two stories, the apartment, and he's on the bottom floor, so the door he's looking at, 138, is his. It's surreal. This whole venture has been. He sets Millicent outside and brings all the rest of the luggage to the door. The crime rate in Boston is actually better than that in London, by a not insignificant amount, but that doesn't mean that he wants to risk everything he now has by leaving it willy-nilly outside his flat… his apartment./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Dom carries Millicent across the threshold into their new home. He takes a deep inhale and is relieved when all that he's met with is new carpet smell and not cigarette smoke or cat piss. It's a loft-style flat, so he first encounters the hallway, where he stacks up the cat carrier, his suitcases, and two boxes. To his right are stairs. He notes that there is no railing, which is a little odd, but he's not a clumsy person so that should be fine. The left, the hallway proper, leads to the living room. He takes that path, seeing the kitchen on the left. The dining room is separated from the living room by a counter which could also be used for eating purposes. He didn't pack up a dining set to fly over the Pacific ocean, so this is probably where he'll be taking his meals. The living room is so large that Dom actually laughs. The one room is probably the entire size of his London flat which was, to be fair, a glorified closet. There's a sliding door which leads onto a small completely fenced patio. He sees evidence of past barbecues on the pavement. He does have a soft spot for grilled food, the flecks of char appealing to his taste buds. Perhaps once spring comes, he'll consider purchasing one. For now, though, he tracks back in some snow and dirt mixture onto the carpet and slides the door shut./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Upstairs, he takes a peek at the loo, mostly taken up by a shower. After the travel, it will feel immensely good to get underneath some hot water. The bedroom is perfect, not too big (though still far larger than his old one) and with one window that looks out onto a neighbor's backyard. He'd had the foresight to buy a cheap bed from that American giant, Walmart, and they'd offered installation for about a quarter of the price of the bed. He sits on it. It's quite serviceable for 150 pounds. The flat feels homier than he expected. When he'd seen that the place was over 100 square meters, he'd been worried that it would feel too palatial, like he was living in Gone With the Wind's Tara. But the floor plan seems poorly executed, smaller than the large number would indicate, and therefore it is cozier./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Home," he says. Then, because it's so unreal, he adds, "In America."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"But, this is Millicent's place too and he lets her out of her carrier. She's hesitant to leave its safety. For however long the trip felt to him, it must have been ten times longer and a hundred times more terrifying. She does place one tentative orange paw outside the carrier and then another. She'll explore the place, probably find a hidey hole. Once she sees that no predator has murdered him, she'll come out and start running the place just as she did his London flat. Dom only wishes that he had someone he could look to the same way./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Well, he's been on a flight or in a car for most of his day now and he's looking forward to unpacking the small amount of his life that he's transported here to the states. Only once he gets everything in their proper places will he be able to relax and find his own hidey hole./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Unpacking reveals just how many things he's going to have to buy. With his long phone list in hand, he journeys to his first ever Walmart. TV had him thinking that every city in America would be either Bonanza or Sex and the City. Boston looks to be somewhere between that. Places are spread out as he'd expected, but they still look more or less as they should, like buildings, not ranches or skyscrapers. The Walmart is a whole other entity, with its fluorescent lighting that hurts the eyes and its bustle of people. It's immediately both overwhelming and disgusting. But, he knows he can get practically anything on his list there and so it is there that he goes. He's walked to this one, it being only a couple of km from his apartment, but he'll probably take a Lyft back since his list is so extensive./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"He buys hangers and toilet paper, allergy meds and eye drops, a coffee machine and sandwich fixings, and the list goes on and on. The frugal part of himself twists in discomfort as he fills the bulky blue cart with everything that he already should have, did have at his real home in London. He's questioning himself, wondering if all this will be wasted by the job not working out. He's even wondering if he'll be too homesick, too fish out of water to do his job right here. He might just go running back home like a child that can't handle summer camp. But, this is the plan and Dom has never been one to deviate from a plan. The total comes to only a little over $400 which, after some google conversion, is amazingly less than he'd expected. He'd been anticipating the imported costs. His inner Scrooge relaxes and he takes his taxi with household goods home and in good spirits that he'd survived his first Walmart trip./span/p 


	12. Chapter 12

p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"They are standing side-by-side looking out the command center viewport at the floating base ahead of them. Starkiller Base. This will change everything. The First Order doesn't have the resources that the empire did so when they strike, they must strike to kill, not just maim. The anticipation is heady, knowing what is to come, knowing that he is at the forefront of bringing an end to the Republic for good, finishing what his grandfather could not. Kylo's mask does not allow for much vision on his periphery but he dares not overtly look for Hux's reaction. Instead, he reaches out through the force, without pushing to the point of detection, to ascertain the general's mood. He finds a mirror of his own excitement and eagerness./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The Finalizer itself will not be landing on the base. There would be too much opportunity for things to go wrong, having so much of the First Order's power in one place. They can't guarantee with absolute certainty that their moves aren't being relayed to their enemies (which make up over half the galaxy) and so they will behave with logical caution. Though it would be best to gauge the construction progress via holovid and report back to Snoke that way, Kylo suspects that the Supreme Leader thinks it a good motivator for the crew, to actually see the progress, to see the physical manifestations of their hard work. It certainly seems to have those on the command deck excited, himself and the ever-stoic Hux included./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Within fighter range, sir," announces the navigator. He's speaking to Hux who has the military background to back his titles that Kylo lacks. They are not quite equals, the two of them, because Kylo's purpose aboard the Finalizer is less traditional, less defined. He is the leader of the Knights of Ren, right-hand apprentice to Supreme Chancellor Snoke, and that may have a huge impression on those that he interacts with on the ship, but it doesn't give a lot of detail to what the expectations of duties on board are./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Very good," says Hux. He turns to Kylo. "Do you intend to survey the construction as well?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"There's amusement there in Hux's question, probably because he knows he's being childish, asking a question for which he already knows the answer. It appears that the need to goad is not one-sided in their dynamic. "Yes, I will be flying the Ganymede."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""The name is larger than the ship," notes Hux. Definitely, playful./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Kylo hesitates for a moment, concerned about pushing a boundary even in this current ease between them, before saying, "It seats two. You could fly down with me."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The discomfort that Kylo had felt in bringing himself to say that is absolutely worth Hux's face. He looks appropriately aghast at the idea of the two of them in the tiny ship, isolated and intimate. Kylo resists the urge to laugh, not so much because of Hux, but because that would show too much of himself to the crew that surrounds them. /spanspan style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Instead, he leaves the control deck, his inappropriate suggestion unanswered, and allows his smile to fill his helmet./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"br /br /p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Kylo is bored. He should be used to it by now, with so many dedicated hours of standing around being useless on the control deck of The Finalizer, but he'd been hopeful that checking out a superweapon would be a bit more exciting. But they've been in the facility for hours and all that's happened is the same dull conversations that happen on board the ship. The words, the halls, the machines, all are monotonous. Hux is loving it. Of course, Hux is. A whole building of zombies that he can order around, systems of operations that he can set into place. At first Kylo tries to keep up with Hux's excited long strides as he traverses the whole damn place, talking to engineers, inspecting machinery, making notations on his tablet. After a good hour of that, he gives up, finds a spot and sticks to it. Occasionally, Hux passes by, usually in a group of other regulation-loving overly-educated soldiers./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"He sits on the floor, intending to meditate, just let his mind drift off in this public place because it's better than what he's been doing, but, then he stands up again, finding himself unable to achieve any sense of self. The restlessness runs deeper in him than his sith mind can handle. Instead, he glares at objects around him. He counts the number of visible conduits. Then he counts the oblong light panels. He's just considering sitting down again, if for no other reason than his legs are tired, when he senses the near-joyful presence of General Hux. It's been six hours./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""What do you think, Ren? An impressive contrivance, isn't it?"/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;""Impressive is not the word I would use."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Hux's cap is off, probably set down somewhere and forgotten about. His hair is about as messy as it can be with, the gel that he normally uses giving up out of boredom too, no doubt. Hux's eyes are bright and happy, even when he gives Kylo a confused look. "No? Hm. Perhaps it's harder to impress a Knight of Ren."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Hux doesn't realize the double meaning of his words, doesn't know that for weeks or longer, his behavior has caught Kylo's interest. "Few have managed it."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"The nuance is lost on Hux, who simply furrows his brow a bit, but continues on. "They believe we are actually capable of utilizing it now, though its scheduled initial execution isn't for months. I imagine that will please Supreme Leader."/span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"It's bad enough that he's been on Starkiller Base this long, he has no intention to also talk about it with Hux. He remains silent./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"There's a bit of exasperation in Hux's voice when he asks, "Surely you think this can turn the tide in our favor?" When Kylo allows the quiet to continue, Hux's formerly happy eyes switch over to angry, which is more their natural state. He shakes his head. "Impossible," he mutters, turning a sharp heel./span/p  
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-weight: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Well, that provided a little entertainment anyway./span/p 


End file.
